"What is this?" Gerald asked.
- Brownie.
- Brownie?
The Duke's raised eyebrows conveyed his utter astonishment.
- Brownie!
- Is he dead?
- Not yet.
- Richie, I asked you to solve the problem, not drag home a half-corpse!
"Dad, the problem is solved! I took the house elf from the farmer, and Agent Blade explained to Mr. Creevy the importance of maintaining secrecy."
- And what are you going to do about it?
The Duke's meaningful look at the house elf left no doubt as to what was meant by 'it'.
- I will treat.
"Hmm... Son, I don't mean to say anything bad, but you weren't previously known for your talent as a doctor. Or has something changed?"
"Dad, we can't call an ambulance for a house elf," Richard answered ironically.
"What if it can't be cured?" Gerald asked a reasonable question.
"Mr. Blade kindly promised to dispose of the body," Richard smiled dazzlingly.
Mr. Rich choked on his prepared phrase and began to cough.
"Get rid of the body?" His eyebrows shot up again.
"Yes, sir!" Richard lowered his chin calmly and very slowly.
"Excellent!" Gerald said sarcastically. "It's not like a hamster is getting rid of a body!"
"Hmm..." Richard rubbed his chin with the air of a hamster expert and examined the house elf carefully. "Definitely not a Djungarian..."
Lord Rich sighed heavily.
"The brownie..." he drawled. "Well, well! What if he gets better?"
- That would be nice, sir.
- Not bad?! Richie, have you thought about how we'll explain to the servants and guests the presence of a dwarf alien in our house?
"If I needed it, an explanation would be found," Richard replied calmly. "For example, we hired a disabled person for charity, someone who was unlucky in looks and height. But that won't be necessary. I'll send an elf to the wizards' estate. In the meantime, I need a first aid kit."
"The first aid kit is hanging on the wall in the kitchen," Gerald said.
Richard turned to the driver, who was awaiting further orders, and said:
- Steve, take the house elf to my office.
"Steve," added the Duke, "stay with Richard just in case."
Stephen nodded and picked up the house elf.
Soon, first aid kit in hand, Richard went up to his office on the second floor. The house elf was lying on the sofa, showing no signs of life.
Under the watchful eye of a security guard stationed near the front door, the boy washed the elf's head wound, treated it with disinfectant, and applied a bandage. Then Richie soaked a cotton ball in ammonia and began swirling it around the elf's nose.
The house-elf's eyelashes fluttered, and his eyes opened slightly. A muffled groan escaped his lips.
"Sir wizard..." the house elf whispered quietly. "Forgive me for letting Donkey lie in your presence."
The elf tried to stand up but almost fell off the couch. Richie held him back and shook his head in displeasure.
- Lie down, Donkey. You're badly hurt.
- Sir Wizard shouldn't speak so respectfully to Donkey.
Richard, having made sure the patient wasn't about to escape, walked over to the bookshelf, opened the bottom cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of Alpine water. Unscrewing the lid, he handed it to the elf.
"Drink, Donkey. But take small sips. You can't drink a lot right now."
"Sir, Donkey will be fine. Magic is healing Donkey."
- I have no doubt.
Richard made another trip to the bookshelf and pulled out a few chocolate bars from his stash. He literally thrust them into the house elf's hands.
- Eat, Donkey! I can see you've been hungry for a long time.
Tears of happiness streamed down the elf's cheeks.
"Sir, you shouldn't have taken such good care of the despicable house-elf! No wizard has ever been so kind to Donkey. But Donkey is a bad elf. The masters gave Donkey clothes."
"And why did the owners give you clothes?" Richard asked calmly.
"Donkey's a bad elf..." the house elf groaned. "Donkey dares to reprimand the young lady for inappropriate behavior. The master got angry at Donkey and gave... gave," he sobbed, streaming with tears. "He gave Donkey a jacket!"